


Big Shot

by yodepalma



Series: limit break [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Humor, Ignis is a BAMF, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game(s), Touch Aversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: Gladio’s first spar against Ignis doesn’t exactly go as planned.





	Big Shot

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what took me so long to write this thing, but it was a pain in my ass.
> 
> Oh and Gladio is like 17 here? This is basically his and Ignis' first time interacting. >.>

Cor is still going on about something or other, but Gladio tuned him out a while ago. He’s really not worried about this spar, and nothing his mentor says is going to change that. He _knows_ Ignis, well, sort of. He’s at least seen him around the Citadel and visiting his house to train with his dad, and he just can’t get over how unapologetically nerdy the kid is. It’s like seeing a young version of Dustin wandering around, all scowly and disapproving. He probably does the eyebrow thing too. Gladio _hates_ the eyebrow thing.

Anyway, even with Dad training Ignis, he doesn’t see much to to be concerned about. Gladio hasn’t lost a fight in ages. He’s not going to lose to Noct’s _advisor_ of all people.

Cor nudges Gladio when the door to the training room opens, but Gladio just waves away whatever else he’s saying. Ignis walks in with Gladio's dad, dressed in appropriate training clothes. It’s the first time Gladio’s seen him in anything other than his dorky suits. Gladio assesses him as he holds out a hand to shake. Whatever muscles he’s gained during training still aren’t terribly obvious, but at least his handshake is firm. The gloves are a bit weird, though.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Ignis says, his smile tiny but sincere. “Your father has told me a lot about you.”

Gladio isn’t sure he likes the sound of that. He looks over at his dad, but his dad is in Shield mode and doesn’t give anything away.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he mutters to Ignis. “Dad hasn’t told me much about _you,_ though.”

Ignis doesn’t look surprised, but his smile doesn’t waver either. “He wouldn’t.”

What the fuck does that even _mean_?

He doesn’t really have any time to think about it. The pleasantries over with, Dad gestures for them to move into the center of the room so they can get started. Nobody really has the time for a drawn-out fight, which is fine; Gladio doesn’t think it’ll take him too long to finish this up anyway.

Cor brings Ignis’ lance over to him and gives Gladio one last pointed look before he steps to the side with Dad to watch them. Gladio resists the urge to roll his eyes at Cor’s back, focuses his gaze on Ignis instead and bows low. When he rises and smoothly lifts his greatsword to rest on his shoulder, Ignis lags a second behind him. At least he has the decency to show the fight the respect it deserves, even if Gladio _does_ think this is a waste of time.

They circle each other slowly, gauging each other’s most obvious strengths and weaknesses. Gladio’s surprised that he doesn’t notice anything immediately, Ignis’ stance perfect and his footsteps confident. Even his expression gives nothing away.

Well, that’s fine by Gladio. He prefers to figure things out the hard way anyway.

It doesn’t take him long to lose his patience, but he always knew he’d go on the offensive first. Ignis doesn’t even attempt to parry his first wide swing, dodging out of the way with a speed Gladio doesn’t expect and swinging his lance around faster than he can move. It catches him in the ribs with barely enough force to bruise, but Gladio still curses at the sharp pain. He almost expects Ignis to point out the way he’d left himself open, but he remains silent as he slides back into his opening position.

Gladio rubs his hand against his chin idly, looking at Ignis with narrow eyes. So the kid’s better than he expected and faster than he’d like, but Gladio doubts he’s good enough to win. All he needs to do is be a little more careful.

Or maybe a _lot_ more careful.

Ignis is so damn fast he’s hard to hit, even after Gladio stops sacrificing speed for power, and Gladio receives far more hits than he gives. He can feel himself losing focus as this goes on, angry because the little bastard won’t _stay still_. The anger makes him faster and less predictable, and he finds himself grinning when he sees the first beads of sweat sliding down Ignis’ forehead.

But he’s still not fast enough. Ignis somehow manages to slide inside his guard, uses some fancy-ass move to send Gladio’s sword flying across the mat, and knocks his feet out from under him. Gladio barely even gets to grunt in pain before he finds himself on his back with the point of the spear barely touching his throat.

Gladio grits his teeth and growls. “I yield.”

Ignis backs away immediately and offers a hand to help him up. Gladio grumbles good-naturedly as he takes it and lets himself be pulled to his feet. He stretches his arms and back, grimacing at the pain of the forming bruises, and then they bow to each other to signal the end of the spar.

“That was a damn good fight,” Gladio says, patting Ignis on the back.

The room lurches and Gladio finds himself on his back again, the breath knocked out of him. He blinks at the ceiling in something of a daze, wondering what the fuck just happened.

“Sorry,” Ignis says, offering him another hand up. “I didn’t mean to—somebody should have warned you ahead of time—”

“It’s cool,” Gladio wheezes, which is kind of a lie. He expects to be thrown during spars, but not from a friendly pat. “I’ll remember for next time.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t touch me at all,” Ignis says quietly. “Nothing personal.”

Gladio shrugs it off with a laugh, but has to ball his hands at his sides to prevent himself from trying to pat him again. It’s not going to be easy to keep himself from those friendly gestures, but he doesn’t want to alienate the guy already.

“We should go get lunch,” Gladio says. “I know this great diner, it’s just around the corner…”

Ignis blinks at him like he doesn’t comprehend a word coming out Gladio’s mouth. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, that meal you eat around midday?” Gladio can’t stop himself from teasing, but the only reaction it nets him is an eyeroll. “C’mon, you gotta be hungry and we need to get to know each other, right? Can’t protect Noct if we don’t get along.”

“Well, I suppose.” Ignis adjusts his glasses and looks toward Cor and Gladio’s dad. “Though I have a lot to take care of this afternoon, so I’m afraid I haven’t much time…”

“Take your time, Ignis,” Dad says. His smile is proud and just the tiniest bit smug. Gladio huffs and crosses his arms. “I dare say you deserve to relax today.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ignis says, but his hesitance is obvious even to Gladio. “I’m sure I won’t be long.”

Dad laughs. “You’ve clearly never seen my son eat.” It’s a gentle enough tease that Gladio barely even has the urge to roll his eyes, and he manages a small smile as Dad pats him on the shoulder on his way out the door. The smile drops when he catches sight of Cor’s glare, but Cor doesn’t say anything as he stalks after Dad.

“So, lunch?” Gladio asks brightly, and Ignis sighs.

That last tiny interaction is clearly going to be the tone of their entire relationship. Gladio does most of the talking on the way to the diner, not that there’s much of it. It doesn’t take him long to realize that Ignis is most likely to talk if the topic is the prince.

So Gladio starts talking about Noct’s training, and eventually manages to pull a smile out of Ignis by complaining about how lazy he is. Ignis really ought to smile more often. He’s plenty attractive even when he isn’t, but the smile makes him seem a lot more approachable.

It takes them approximately forever to set up some sort of reasonable training schedule, both of them busy with school on top of their duties to the crown. Gladio kind of wishes they could meet more often—or at least make time for lunch after training—but Ignis seems to be even busier than _he_ is. He’s glad he’s just a Shield and doesn’t have to learn half the shit Ignis does.

“So I’ll see you on Thursday then?” Gladio asks when they leave the diner just over an hour later. Ignis is frowning at his phone as he puts in the new details, and it only gets worse when he swipes back to the current day. “Problem?”

“No, I’m sure Clarus made my excuses for the meeting I missed.” Ignis doesn’t smile when he looks back up at Gladio, but the frown has at least disappeared. “I’m looking forward to Thursday, now that you know to take me seriously.”

Gladio feels himself blush, but he laughs at himself anyway. “Yeah, well, not my fault you’re a nerd and you _look_ like one.”

“Well, I do have to garner a certain reputation as Noctis’ advisor.” Ignis raises an eyebrow at him. “Not all of us can continue to dress like children.”

Gladio snorts. “We’re not _that_ old.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ignis sighs and puts his phone away. “Have a good afternoon, Gladiolus.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Gladio watches until Ignis disappears into the lunch crowds before he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads back home.

@-`---

Gladio has to train with Cor the next day, and he wanders into the training room with his shoulders hunched. He knows Cor won’t be pleased by him losing to Ignis, and he’s not looking forward to the spar.

Cor doesn’t say anything when Gladio walks in. He nods to the shield he’d gotten out of the armory and Gladio winces; he hasn’t quite mastered using a shield as a weapon yet, and Cor _knows_ that. Shit, he must be pissed. Gladio will be lucky to make it through this in one piece.

Cor _usually_ holds back on Gladio, giving him just enough of a challenge to be useful but not so much for him to get discouraged. He doesn’t bother with that today. Gladio barely finishes bowing before Cor attacks, and the katana hits Gladio’s shield hard enough that his entire arm feels the vibrations. Gladio grits his teeth and manages not to lose his hold, but it’s still less than a minute before he finds himself facing a killing stroke.

Cor doesn’t give him much time to recover. It isn’t long before Gladio finds his stamina running low, but he refuses to give up. He even manages to get a couple good hits in, but by the end of the hour he’s sore enough that he just collapses onto his back to breathe.

Cor steps up next to him and _looms_. “Don’t ever underestimate your opponent,” he says, and walks out of the room.

Gladio groans to the ceiling. Fucking _Ignis_.

**Author's Note:**

> cor is a man of few words :3
> 
> also he's ticked off because he lost a bet against clarus re: who would win the fight. c'mon, cor, you _know_ gladio is a cocky little shit


End file.
